Frosty Dreams
by fufulupin
Summary: BobbyRogue. My version of how a scene in the movie could have gone. RR, please!


Disclaimer: Not mine at all. Movieverse; just a little idea of how this scene could have gone.

Rogue slipped through the bathroom doorway wearing her pajamas over a damp body. She wasn't entirely sure of what had happened to her over the past hour, but from what her frazzled mind could recall, the mansion had been attacked and very few children had escaped. She, Logan, Bobby, and John had fled in one of Scott's prize cars to Boston. Now, they were inside Bobby's home, waiting for...what? More soldiers to find them? Jean and Storm to pick them up? Bobby's parents to come home and discover their son in the company of three other mutants? She shuddered and pulled her wet hair into a messy ponytail as she surveyed her best friend's room.

Bobby was an exceptional person, but his room betrayed none of the outstanding qualities that she saw in him. It was simply laid out, with snowboarding posters adorning the walls, an ample CD collection, and a bed.

She eyed the mattress for a moment, weighing her options. She hadn't really gotten much sleep; governmental soldiers breaking and entering with trank guns usually took care of that. And Bobby was a sweet guy, not to mention her boyfriend. Surely he wouldn't mind if she rested her eyes a little.

Comforted by the rationality of that thought, she curled up on top of the comforter and closed her eyes. 'Just a little nap,' she promised herself, yawning into the warm blanket and smiling as the scent of Bobby rushed over her.

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When Bobby Drake walked into his bedroom carrying an armful of feminine clothing, he didn't exactly expect to find his girlfriend dozing on his bed. Not that it really bothered him, of course; Rogue had every right to be exhausted. Still, it was slightly off-putting to come in expecting to hold a conversation with a girl and finding said girl fast asleep.

He smiled, setting the clothes down on a chair and coming over to the bedside. Careful not to touch her (Rogue would kill him if she woke to find him leaning over her like a perv), he settled himself on the very edge of the bed and watched her sleep.

She seemed peaceful, at first, but that changed very quickly. Before he knew it, her face had contorted to a mask of terror and her fists had clenched against the bedspread. She moaned slightly, as if in pain, then again: "Bobby!"

He jumped, surprised. "Rogue?"

"Bobby!" she repeated more urgently, then: "John! No!"

"Rogue, wake up," Bobby murmured, shaking her as best as he could without laying a hand on bare skin.

"John, let go of him!" she cried. "Stop it! Stop it now!"

Gritting his teeth, Bobby made a silent promise to freeze the hell out of John once he'd woken Rogue up. "Sweetie, wake up," he pleaded. She only shook her head, whispering his name over and over.

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The dream had started off pleasantly enough.

She had been standing in the entertainment room of the mansion, wondering what to do, when Bobby appeared from behind her. He'd smiled that adorable smile of his and before she could ask him what they were doing at the school, he pressed his mouth lightly against hers.

She'd smiled against him, holding tight to him. That was when she knew for sure that this was a dream; she felt his skin on hers and there was no imprinting, no fear. Just the most basic of knowledge: she was loved.

She had twisted in his arms so she was leaning back against his chest, one hand playing with his sleeve as he wrapped strong arms around her waist. "This is wonderful," she murmured, knowing how corny the words would have sounded if this were reality.

He gave a little laugh. "It is, isn't it?"

Then the dream changed, without meaning or reason.

John came through the doorway, looking as sullen and broody as ever. His dark hair was windswept as though he'd been fighting and he glared at them with fiery eyes. Rogue's smile faded.

"John? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

A cold smile slid across his face, coming and melting away in what seemed like an instant. The back of her neck prickled.

"Bobby..."

Then she was out of his arms, pushed by her boyfriend to safety as John flicked open his signature lighter and flung a handful of flames. Bobby patted his sweater in faint panic as it caught fire and glared back at his friend.

"John, what are you doing??" Rogue screamed. He didn't bother looking at her, only threw another fireball at Bobby. Her boyfriend didn't generate any ice, as she'd expected him too; instead, he grimaced as the heat brushed his skin and drove him to his knees.

John laughed evilly, sending more and more flames at his roommate. "How do you like that, Snowman?"

"John, stop it! Stop it now!" she screamed, rushing to Bobby's side and calling out his name. John only laughed harder as tears streamed down her face. She touched the side of Bobby's cheek, hoping to save him somehow.

All around her, the mansion burned...

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Waking, she sprang into a sitting position, warm tears streaking her face. Bobby frowned, watching her.

"Are you all right?" he asked, moving as if to hold her. She shrank back and nodded, wiping hastily at her eyes.

"Fine. Just a, uh, nightmare." Weakly, she smiled.

His blue eyes narrowed, but he didn't push the issue. Instead, he reached for a bundle of cloth and handed it to her. "Found these in the attic. I think they were from before I was born." He gave a nervous chuckle.

"Groovy," she commented, taking the blouse and pants and motioning for him to turn. She dressed quickly, trying not to blush, then turned back and touched his shoulder.

Bobby smiled. "These were my grandmother's," he explained, giving her a pair of long white gloves. She nodded thankfully and looked up into eternal blue eyes.

"You won't hurt me," he whispered, inching closer, and though she couldn't help wondering if her boyfriend had a death wish, she let him.

Their lips met, soft and cautious, and she pulled back quickly, looking awed. "Wow," she breathed, feeling a rush of cold air slip past her lips. He smiled in return and ducked his head again, catching her mouth with his own. She rose up against him, arms going around his neck as her tongue lightly probed against his lips. She grinned against him, feeling as she had in the dream.

Then, it warped. Bobby's touch became instantly panicked, his eyes opened and he strained backward, to get away from her. Gasping, she broke contact before the imprint could really begin and apologized as he reeled back, touching his lips as though she'd burned him.

She stared into the carpet. The dream made sense, she realized. She could have Bobby, his love, his kisses, but they would all come at a horrible price. The real question was, was it worth it?

Gazing at the boy with tears in her eyes, she knew that she could not honestly say it was.


End file.
